


Daisy

by FountainStranger



Series: The Originals [1]
Category: Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Character Death, Clerics, Other, implied adult abuse, mentions of child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainStranger/pseuds/FountainStranger
Summary: From the days when Maera was still in training in Magnamar, shes sent out to help an elderly woman in need.
Series: The Originals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026226





	Daisy

The warm morning sun pleasantly beamed down on the city of Magnamar and the church of Iomedae as Maera, a then cleric in training strolled through the halls within. The glory and art found within was a source of joy and pride of the Iomedaeans, but was mundane to her as she double checked her hip satchel for the medicine she would need for her next patient. 

“Hey Vintea!” Maera turned to see another excitable and warm cleric scurry up to her with a bright smile. 

She smiled back and slowed down so she could catch up, “Hello Agda~”

The warm skinned, and big boned woman practically exuded good will and ease, as if she was channeling Iomedae’s light nearly 24/7. She swiftly pulled Maera into a tight lung crushing hug, and cooed. 

“I heard that you have to go take care of the elderly Ms.Callas today, I’m so sorry.”

Maera chuckled, and hugged her back as best as she could 

“Oh she’s not that bad, her joints just always hurt. It’s natural for her to be cranky.”

Agda pulled back enough to let go to grab Maera’s face, and squish her cheeks. “Maera, Maera, Maera, you are too nice. I made this nice daisy carving, and I think you could use some color today.”

Agda let go of her face to pull out a lovingly painted small daisy wood carving, and push it into Maera’s hand. This wasn’t the first time Agda had given her a little flower carving, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Maera still smiled at it and tucked it into the bag on her hip.

“Thank you Agda, if I do walk into a storm today I’ll be safe with this daisy” She smiled back, though not nearly as bright as Agda’s effervescent smile. If each of Iomedae’s clerics could only capture a small piece of her perfection, Agda got her smile. Maera immediately looked down to unnecessarily dust off her robes and shake the warmth off her cheeks. 

She took a step back, and waved, cutting the conversation there. “When I get back I’m gonna give you something.” 

Agda waved back, as Maera turned back to her journey out of the church and into the warmth of the day outside. 

She took in a deep breath as she navigated the streets she knew so well, getting to the Callas house was never going to be a problem.

She passed her gaze over the worn stone of the streets and the various cracks where stone and paint have chipped or broke under the weight of time. As she walked she let herself imagine ducking into the cool shade between the houses and snaking through holes, and lizarding up a textured wall to hop on a sun baked roof or fall down into a quick dusty underground tunnel that leads out into a cleverly hidden exit. 

She walked past all of it as she followed the well worn road, and the flow of foot traffic to a series of humble homes filled with the sounds of domestic life and the smell of food.

As she came up on the Callas home she looked down to her satchel, and stirred her hand around inside to touch everything she already knew was in there. 

Satisfied with her check she casually approached the door with a smile and knocked clearly, immediately the sound of an aggravated elderly yell answered. The door still opened to reveal a nice looking middle aged woman though tired. 

“Thank you for coming, I heard that the usual person isn’t coming and I’m grateful someone could still be sent.” She smiled tightly, and let Maera in.

It was a cozy home, and the source of the elderly distress was evident. The elder Callas rocked in her chair, covered by a handmade blanket with a sour angry look that had clearly creased her face permanently. 

“I said I don’t want to see another cleric, you awful girl!”

Ms. Callas flinched, and Maera paused slightly taken aback. In her experience most elderly people were calm and kind, the cruelty of the world merely sanding them smooth instead of tearing them apart. Mrs.Callas glared in her general direction though she didn’t seem to focus. 

Maera softly stepped forward looking closer while trying not to be rude. It was obvious the elderly woman knew her general direction, but her eyes didn’t follow.

Blind

Mrs.Callas also held a wood cane in her arthritic hand, but it wasn’t a firm curved grip. If she was inclined to wield it like a bat, she probably couldn’t even lift it if she tried. The pity in Maera’s stomach twisted with nausea from the smell coming from Mrs.Callas nearly toothless mouth. 

“Who is it! Your not that loud empty headed cleric that usually comes. NAIRA, make yourself and throw them out!”

Ms.Callas, Naira, sighed and closed the door. “Mother, you need help, your pain is too much and I want you to be comfortable.”

Maera stood awkwardly, but a little annoyed and impressed to the side. Agda’s enthusiasm was always easy to pinpoint. She pointedly stopped paying attention to them to look around more thoroughly.

Aside from the angered woman, there were various little nick nacks on the shelves. Hand crafted and painted messily, like a child made it. A few of them were likely made by Naira herself, or by grandchildren. 

Maera reached into her bag, and pulled out the little daisy. It was simple, but smooth and smelled nice. Even if Mrs.Callas can’t see it, maybe she would enjoy the smooth texture and the faint paint aroma. If she was gonna come visiting again might as well start off with a small gift. 

Maera stepped forward, and knelt down holding the little flower up into the soft and frail hands.

Mrs.Callas momentarily looked furious, her face twisting more into a series of lines and folds of skin before completely stopping and falling slack in surprise. Her face relaxing enough to expose her hazy grey eyes. 

She held the flower and Maera’s fingertips tenderly in her hands for a moment before reaching out to pull Maera closer.

Mrs.Callas’s rancid breath choked the air, but Maera allowed herself to be pulled in. The elderly woman keened, and took in a deep breath of her thick wavy hair and weaved her spindly fingers in unusually strongly. Pulling some tangled hairs painfully from her scalp.

“Ione?”

The hand that didn’t keep Maera in a grip tenderly closed on the flower and felt its shape.

Maera cringed from the smell and the sting of the pulled hairs, and opened her mouth to introduce herself. Before she could clarify though, Mrs.Callas smiled brightly with tears in her eyes. All at once her anger transformed face faded to that of a kind, happy person. 

“Ione my little love, you trained to be a cleric just like you said you would.” She laid her head in Maera’s hair and happily wept. “You said it was gonna be a surprise and it is.”

“Don't think I forgot what you said all those years ago. You promised to bring me a daisy when you left to play.” She rocked back and forth keeping her grip in Maera hair and hummed happily.

“I may be blind now, but I would know you even if you're older now. You’re still my favorite grandchild, just like I said before.” She placed the little daisy proudly in her lap and brought her other hand to gently cradle Maera’s face.

Without skipping a beat she wheeled towards Naira, and sneered. “You dared to tell me Ione DIED for so long you good for nothing bitch!”

The room froze, and Maera slowly sweat as she tried not to tremble. The sudden whiplash shook her, and made her even more aware of the hand in her hair. Maera moved her gaze to look at Naira, and the tears in her eyes threatened to spill over as she held her hands close to her chest and made herself small. Like the mostly frail old woman stuck in a chair could spring up and wield her cane.

  
  


Maera uncomfortably knelt, and clutched her robes unable to move. Her knees ached as she held her breath trying not to taste the smell coming from the elderly woman’s toothless mouth. She hadn’t been kneeling long, but being confused for a dead kid made her heart pump anxiously. She desperately wanted to twist away, and scoot back even at the cost of some hair. Just to clear her senses, or make sense of the situation. 

Mrs.Callas merely rested her head on Maera’s. She tenderly cradled the little flower, and switched back to crying and cooing until she became still. Maera didn’t dare move, the hand in her hair didn’t let go even if the other hand had become relaxed and opened up. 

After what felt like an eternity of straining muscle and being hyper aware Maera heard Naira’s footsteps coming up behind her. 

“Mother?”

She gently shook her, and the grip finally loosened enough to let go but not to fall out of its tangle in Maera’s hair. It took everything not to writhe and violently tear the hand out. She allowed Naira to remove the hand before scrambling back onto her ass, and pulling away. 

She fully expected to hear some a scream or yell, but Mrs.Callas just lay forward still as…

The grave

Maera stood up, and slowly walked back immediately checking her pulse and eyes. Her still warm soft skin lay still under Maera’s bare fingertips. 

Shit wait hold on, was all she could think of as she searched the bag on her hip for anything that could help while keeping her hand on her. All she could hope for was that she could still use her sacred touch to keep her from Pharasma’s hall. 

She frowned at her stuffed bag, useless to help and placed her full palm on Mrs.Callas’s cheek and cast Virtue, despite the soft golden strengthening glow radiating from her hands she still stayed slumped over and still. She resisted the urge to frown harder, Naira standing behind her heavily breathing as though at any second tears would spill out. 

The lack of response didn’t deter Maera as she closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. 

Breathe in 1,2,3,4, and she felt Iomedae’s power fill up her body to almost overflowing.

Hold 1,2,3,4, the channeled divine energy that made her skin cells tingle and be soothed at the same time all moved through her arms and into her are hands fully holding Mrs. Callas’s face.

Breathe out 1,2,3,4, and the channeled energy all released with a warm glow like a piece of the sun had been picked out sky and placed into the air. 

Maera heard a soft gasp, but chose to ignore it trying to make the energy seep into the now slowly cooling body of the slumped woman in her hands. She held her breath, and squeezed a little tighter but the energy nearly moved over the body and radiated into the open air and floated outwards from her and out of the home.

Naira stood next to her teary eyed, and stood still. After a few minutes Maera let out a breath and straightened up, letting Mrs. Callas’s face slip out of her hands. Maera sighed, and squeezed her hands together and looked at Naira. “I’m sorry ma’am, I wasn’t able to resuscitate her.” 

Naira sucked in a deep breath, and the tears that were barely being held into all spilt out. Maera pursed her lips, and looked back to her mother. The little daisy still lay in her withered wrinkled hand, the reason she died? Or was it mere coincidence? Maera had no intention of reaching into her now calling hand to retrieve the small carving. At least it had made her happy?

She looked back at Naira who was shaking, she was clearly barely keeping it together in Maera’s presence. “There weren't any signs of sickness, she passed from old age. She’s lived a long life, and you’ve done your best and made her life comfortable.”

Naira nodded, and let go of her mother’s body and led Maera to the door with misty eyes. “She really loved Ione, she was more devastated than I was when she died in the accident”

Maera immediately mentally curled away, there wasn’t really a reason for her to know this. She didn’t want to know this, she had no desire to learn more about the dead child she had been confused for. So she nodded back and pulled away when they crossed the threshold with a sad look. “I’m sorry for your loss, I can send priests to perform the funeral rites whenever you're ready. If you prefer the guidance of a Pharasman cleric it can also be done.”

She took a few steps forward, and the door quietly shut behind her followed by muffled sobbing. 

The sun was still bright and warm, and the smell of food cooking and domestic sound still filled the air as if nothing had happened. 

Maera sucked in a deep breath. Took a few slow thoughtful steps before dashing to a crack in a wall, And climbing in. The lingering dust easily dirtied the robes as she crawled through the dark tight passage, but it was nothing to her as her breaths became more erratic. The adrenaline faded as she moved away from the aura she herself channeled earlier. The sheer idea of being confused for a dead person was already uncomfortable, but that situation had really been something else. 

She could still feel where the small hairs on the back of her head were pulled out, and the memory of that rancid breath still curled her now nauseous stomach. 

“Urp.” Maera swallowed hard, and patted her chest to try to calm her stomach. Lucky for her, any other duties she had for the day could be done after a meal, and an hour or so to calm down. 

Hopefully Agda’s gift would be something to settle Maera’s stomach or help her forget this morning.


End file.
